White Christmas
by CalmCrescendo
Summary: Natsume Hyuuga lost the hope of having a joyful christmas three years ago because of a certain incident, until Mikan Sakura came back for him and gave him what he has been yearning for.


Disclaimer: I don't own Alice Academy.

_**WHITE CHRISTMAS**_

**By ****Damsel in Distress**

_**December 24, 2006**_

Natsume Hyuuga sighed as he looked out of his ceiling-to-floor window, his eyes distant as he thought of Mikan Sakura.

After eleven years of being with her, Natsume's personality had considerably changed. Everyone can tell, from the occasional twinkling of his eyes to the little—almost unnoticeable—upward curve of his lips.

Natsume shook his head with a smile. Mikan Sakura sure was powerful, even without her nullification abilities, which had improved greatly ever since trained at the age of thirteen. Powerful enough to change people's lives, even those whose lives are seemingly fixed at a certain depressing point. Just like his and Persona's. He noticed lately that Persona has become social, albeit still sardonic at times. He acted like a father to Mikan, although he would not admit it, but Natsume has an eye like that of an x-ray's.

The snow outside kept falling. Natsume decided to call Mikan and invite her to a little Christmas Eve dinner at his mansion. Hotaru and Ruka had moved to Paris last year, leaving Mikan alone. She had mourned over it for a surprising number of weeks, four to be exact. And Natsume had to endure all those tears without fighting with her. Even until now, those two never stopped bickering. Hotaru had once described it as their way of showing affection to each other, but the two were as stubborn to believe as always.

Natsume dialled Mikan's number. After three rings, her answering machine picked up. Natsume did not bother to listen, because he knew she only used it when going to missions. It was like a secret code among their group.

_Darn,_ Natsume thought. He called Persona instead.

He picked up at the first ring.

"Where is she?" Natsume asked straight away, not waiting for the other person's greeting. Persona never greeted anyone, anyway.

"_Mission."_ The other line replied sarcastically. Natsume rolled his eyes.

Persona seemed to hear his eyes rolling, so he added, "_I sent her to the governor's party. She has to retrieve an important document. It contains all the codes."_ Persona referred to the top secret information of the government's departments.

"But why this Christmas?" Natsume asked, aggravated.

"_Open for entry," _Persona said curtly. And then added, "_I made her wear the kimono she really likes."_

"You _baited_ her," Natsume realized. The girl had begged Persona to give her the flowing red kimono after trying to wear it to one mission with Natsume. Natsume, on the other hand, couldn't refuse, because she looked good in it. But to use it as a _bait_? Unacceptable.

Persona chuckled darkly. '_So much for change_,' Natsume thought.

"_Anyway, she mentioned it would be her gift to me this Christmas. And you needed some rest, Black Cat."_ He added curtly before hanging up.

Natsume let out an exasperated sigh. He knew missions were only limited to midnight, so Mikan was supposed to come back in less than three hours. '_Christmas Eve,' _He thought grudgingly, '_Imai is going to kill me.'_

Natsume decided to doze off the remaining hours, he _does_ need a rest. He's been doing missions for the past three days.

* * *

Natsume heard someone rapping on his door, followed by the click that opened it.

"Natsume," a teary voice said, and Natsume instantly turned around. He'd know that voice anywhere. _Mikan._

And indeed, half-kneeling to the floor was a ragged-looking Mikan with a desperate aura. She was wearing a _nagajuban _(white kimono worn as an undergarment), with one shoulder hanging off, revealing a blood-smeared collarbone. It was then Natsume noticed the blood dripping off the side of her gaping mouth. Something glistened beside the blood, and he realized she was crying.

Panicking, Natsume was about to rush to her side when he suddenly could not move.

"Natsume…" Mikan pleaded him. She choked and then cried out loud. Something about her cry told him she was in great pain… almost unbearable.

Their surroundings suddenly became black, as if they were floating, and the temperature dropped below zero. Natsume remained motionless, despite his effort of moving towards Mikan.

She was crying out loud now, as Natsume tried in vain to get to her.

"Natsume… Avenge me." She choked out, and then doubled over.

"…Please!" She pushed her hand against her thigh to stand up. And then what he saw shocked Natsume.

There was blood streaming down in between her legs. So much blood, and the lower half of her _nagajuban_ was stained with it.

"AVENGE ME!" She screamed, clawing at the black emptiness between them as something—or someone—pulled her into a crimson pond.

"NATSUME—!"

* * *

"Ah!"

Natsume gasped into reality as he sat upright on his chair. Something happened to_ her. _Natsume looked at his watch.

1:00 AM.

Someone suddenly pushed his door open and Natsume whirled around, hoping to see a red kimono-clad Mikan home from her mission safely.

It was not her.

"Where is she?" Persona demanded, his low voice coated of panic. Never in his twenty-one years of existence did Natsume hear Persona panicking.

Mikan Sakura is totally in grave danger.

* * *

"Why did you let her?!"

"She wanted to."

"I _can't_ believe you actually listened to her!"

"But I _trusted_ her. I know she would be safe."

"YOU SHOULD HAVE KNOWN BETTER!"

Natsume stopped at the foot of the stairs, panting. He glared at Persona.

"We will track her." Persona said calmly, although his insides are crumpling together in panic. He _can't_ lose her—she was his stealthiest agent. And Yuka will definitely cut his head off with her own bare hands.

The two ran off to the woods in desperate search of Mikan. It was the short-cut to the governor's house.

* * *

Natsume stopped dead in his tracks. Images are flashing on his mind—

"_So tired…"_

_three men—_

_snow—_

_bloodied tracks—_

"_Help me!"—_

_Lake…_

Persona stared at Natsume in a mixture of annoyance and shock as he stumbled on his tracks.

"Black cat_—_"

"She was raped."

* * *

Natsume and Persona immediately located the direction of the lake.

"She—this is preposterous. She could have knocked down the men." Persona said, his tone marred with anger.

"She was tired. Maybe there were obstruction during the mission…" Natsume trailed off and choked when he saw a wide crimson spot beside the lake. "No... Impossible." He finally said.

White hot flame of anger seared through him.

"Stop, Natsume. Don't burn anything."

The boy was about to shout at him furiously when he saw Persona looking at something. Natsume followed his eyes.

There was a mound of soil a few yards away from them. Apparently… "She is dead." Persona muttered.

* * *

Natsume was the one to recover her body. It—_she—_was dressed in her _nagajuban_, just like what Natsume had seen her back at his room. Her sleeping face looks somewhat perturbed, while Natsume stared at her with unfathomable eyes. He held her upon his knee while he cried interior tears. He will avenge her.

They found the bastards a few meters away, laughing as if they just did not rape a 21-year old lady. This made Natsume and Persona angrier, if that was even possible. Eagle eyes watched unsuspecting men from a tree branch.

They look like they were in their thirties, and disgustingly _poor._ Poor, moneyless men who just raped an elite agent.

_These bloody bastards don't deserve to live._

They leapt from the branch they were perched on and attacked the men like lions attacking lambs. Death and fire alice combined, the maniacs experienced more of what hell has to offer.

It was _morbid._

* * *

_**December 24, 2009**_

Natsume woke up, feeling a little bit dazed. He turned his head to the right and looked at his bedside clock. It read 12:00 midnight. He sighed. Christmas was useless without _her_.

And then, as if on instinct, he turned to his left, and saw Mikan Sakura staring right back at him. She was leaning on the edge of his bed, her head resting horizontally on her forearm. She stared at him placidly.

His eyes widened. _She can't be… she's _dead_, right_? He thought. But it all seemed too real. She was dressed in the last clothes she wore—Natsume momentarily got angry at this—and she has blood smeared all over her collarbone. "Mikan?" He whispered unthinkingly, and she smiled back at him.

Natsume shook his head. _No, this can't be happening. I'm hallucinating. Or seeing a ghost,_ Natsume mused. But he must have said that aloud because Mikan laughed. Her bright-as-sun tinkling-like-bells laugh. Now Natsume is sure he is not seeing a ghost or hallucinating.

"Mikan?" He muttered again.

She beamed. "Are you going to say that until New Year? Come on!" She pulled his hands with her ice-cold ones. The moment they are outside his house and at the garden, Mikan was dressed in a bridal ball gown. Natsume realized this was the dress she wore at their senior year's ball. She and her girlfriends decided to wear bridal gowns and hang out with each other instead of having dates.

Natsume looked at himself. At his surprise, he had changed into the suit he wore to the ball. Mikan beamed at him and circled her arms around his neck loosely. Surprisingly, he was not freezing because of the snow around them.

"Natsume," Mikan caught his attention. "I missed you."

Natsume looked away. "Well, what do you think I feel?" He said offhandedly.

"Hey, cheer up. I'm here, right? I'm here for you!" Mikan laughed jovially, as if without a care in the world.

There was silence after Mikan's laughter. She brushed Natsume's cheek lightly. "I never had the chance to thank you." Natsume knew what this meant.

"Thanks, Natsume," Mikan whispered against his cheek, her face close to his. And then he kissed her.

It was like no other. It was very different from the friendly kisses they shared when they were teenagers. Sparks bolted to every corner of their body. She was softer, he was gentler, in great contrast to the fervor of their kiss. It was fiery.

It was _real._

All their bottled emotions exploded into passion and at once, they understood each other. After the kiss, they felt _free._ It was like no other.

Their gazes collided as they breathed heavily. Natsume swept some fringe away from Mikan's face with a light touch. Her beam broke into a large grin, a smile Natsume had learned to love and never let go. He, too, smiled, the first time in three years. It felt different, smiling at her. He felt like there are no problems, no worries, no obstacles. And he was thankful for that. He owed it all to Mikan.

"I missed you too," He finally said. Mikan laughed.

They stared at each other, communicating with their eyes.

"And I love you too, Natsume." She whispered, letting go of him.

It was the last time Natsume Hyuuga ever saw and held Mikan Sakura, but it was enough for him.

He was contented.

* * *

_**December 25, 2009**_

Hotaru Imai held Ruka Nogi's hand as they sat together at a bench in Central Town.

"It's nice being back here," She whispered, and her eyes welled up with tears. "I miss her."

Ruka hushed his wife while wiping her tears away.

"Why did she have to leave us? And she had to leave at _Christmas_, the moron." Ruka chuckled. He knew Hotaru was just being sarcastic.

"Yeah, I miss her too, Hotaru," He mumbled. They have been spending their Christmas here at Central Park ever since she left, sometimes meeting up with the group. They were quite happy, but they felt empty. They would always make a trip to the lake nearby Natsume's mansion—it was on the outskirts of Central Town—and visit Mikan's grave. Natsume had refused to bury her somewhere else, so they had built up a small mausoleum and planted a Sakura tree beside it.

Ruka and Hotaru sat like that for a few more minutes, and neither of them knew why. It was like their instincts told them so.

And maybe that was because at the corner of their eyes, they would see a very familiar brunette wearing her very favorite gown beaming at them.

Well, Mikan Sakura left them a beautiful white Christmas, after all.

* * *

**A/N**

_So, you're probably wondering why the hell I am writing a story that happened on a December night while it is summer. Well, let's just say I'm looking for a contrast. :]_ _Thanks for reading, btw! _

_**Please review.**_


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